Mémoires Pénibles
by Cheval de la Nuit
Summary: Just as the title says, 'Painful Memories' Javert encounters some of the events from his past in Toulon.
1. 1

Today would be the day! Happiness bubbled inside Philippe as he scurried out of the little room his mother owned. The sun was just rising over the sea. Drawing the salty-sweet air in, the boy leap down the wooden steps into the galleys of Toulon. Today his father would be freed. After serving eight years, his theft would be pardoned, and life would become peaceful again. Picking his way through the broken shells and smooth stones, Philippe watched as the ship that carried his father came near. It docked, and off the man stepped. His dark skin had turned to a rich mahogany under the sun. His long limbs were corded with muscled and his hair hung loosely past his shoulders. A bright yellow Ticket of Leave rippled in the wind, grasped tightly in Honoré's hand. The little boy bounded toward him, untidy hair streaming out behind him.  
  
"You are free, papa!"  
  
"That I am, mon petite, that I am."  
  
"So, where are we going first?" The two headed toward the iron gates that led to the world outside of the prison. After a long pause, the Honoré answered. They had reached the end of the path. "Why do you say we?  
  
Philippe looked back, startled. "Mama and I stayed here in the galleys while you worked. I even crept out to see you when I wasn't supposed to, just to see you."  
  
The man sighed. "You stayed because your mother needed some place to stay, and following me into the galleys, to do what works she could, gave her that place. You were taken along because you were very young. Your mother raised you, and now your mother will decide when you leave. I, on the other hand, have earned my freedom, and shall how take it. Good bye, Philippe..."  
  
~ ~ ~ * * * * ~ ~ ~  
  
Javert sat up with a start, trembling. Pushing aside the sheets, he slid out of bed. The moonlight fell softly into the room, landing sleepily on the few pieces of furniture there. The pale silver light soothed the Inspector as he stood beside the window, still quivering from the dream. Though he never viewed himself as superstitious, he was unnerved by the dreams he had been having. They were reflections of what he had down when he was young, hotheaded, and foolish. With a heavy sigh, Javert sank back into his bed, and reluctantly let sleep return. 


	2. 2

Walking down Toulon's streets, Javert was on patrol. He had recently been named the adjucent of the galley guard. For eleven years she worked alongside the guards and convicts; now his effort was being acknowledged.  
  
"Monsieur, where are we headed?" Michel asked. The young man was one of the guards Javert decided to bring with him. The other was a short man, Antoine, who was ten years Javert's senior despite his lower rank. A crack broke the night's silence.  
  
"It came from behind that house, there!" Antoine said quickly, pointing to the butcher's shop. The three men took off at a run, Javert easily taking the lead. As they rounded the corner of the shop, they saw a cellar, split as it was forced open. A wine bottle and two wheels of cheese lay on the dirt beside it.  
  
"Thieves!" Javert spat, his eyes echoing his disgust. "Search the area, quickly!" He ordered. Michel and Antoine hurried to do as they were bid.  
  
A minute barely passed, when Michel cried out, "Monsieur! I have found him, though he is getting away!"  
  
Javert headed to where Michel stood, and saw a man scurrying up the trellis before them.  
  
"What do we do?" Michel asked tentatively.  
  
"Shoot him"  
  
"Monsieur?"  
  
"Shoot him now, before he gets away."  
  
Michel drew his pistol and fired. The man fell heavily to the ground. "Is he dead?"  
  
Javert gave Michel a glance that would have made Napoleon question his confidence. "Your aim isn't nearly good enough," he answered. "The man is wounded, but it is his shoulder, not his chest. Just as well, we need him alive."  
  
The three men walked over to the thief, who lay shaking on the ground.  
  
"Drag him out!" Javert barked. "Let's get a good look at him."  
  
The man was pulled out from the shadow of the trellis. Michel and Antoine stood close to the man. They were to do the initial interrogation, while Javert waited. The moonlight was now able to splash over the thief's features, illuminating the fear in his eyes.  
  
"Your name?' Antoine asked.  
  
"I give my name to only a select few."  
  
Javert looked up. He didn't know how many people who, like he, kept their given names a secret. 'Your name!" Antoine tried again, his tone gathering impatience.  
  
Tiring of the thief's obstinacy, Javert stepped forward. Looking at the guards he said, "You are superior! There should be no problem here!"  
  
The thief, who had been looking at Javert, now gave a gasp. "Phillipe," he said quietly. "Phillipe, Do you not know me?"  
  
Shocked that a stranger would know his name, Javert turned quickly. As he gazed, the surprise in his eyes turned to cold anger.  
  
The man spoke again, "Phillipe, it's your father, Honoré"  
  
Michel turned to the adjucent boldly, "He is your father?"  
  
Ignoring the statement, Javert addressed Honoré. His voice carried no tone of compassion or even recognition. "Your name" he stated.  
  
The man hurried to reply. "Honoré! Honoré Javert!"  
  
"There is a record of your at the galleys. You had been brought there for theft. Do you know the penalty for committing a crime twice?"  
  
"Yes"  
  
Javert now spoke in a harsh, clipped tone. "You show authority to your superior when you speak."  
  
Honoré's eyes widened, "Yes, monsieur. I know the penalty."  
  
"And yet, here you are. There is wine and cheese by the cellar, and your jacket holds something else. Come, take it out."  
  
The man slid a hand into his thin jacket and let two jars of preserves and a handful of salted meat fall into the dirt. "This is theft. You have been caught."  
  
"Yes, monsieur"  
  
"The galley guard has been missing you," the adjucent said with a harsh smile.  
  
"They will be delighted to hear that you shall be spending the rest of your life with them."  
  
Turning to the two guards, he snapped a command. "Handcuff him! We will head back."  
  
Antoine quickly did as he was told, and soon the four were heading toward the jail.  
  
Once more, Michel became bold. "You arrested your father?"  
  
"I arrested a thief, nothing more."  
  
"But he is your father!"  
  
Javert spun around to block Michel's path, his eyes shining as bright as the moon. "My father is dead!" he growled. "You are a fool, and should not have dared to ask! However, since your stupidity seems to have gotten the better of you, you have your answer." 


	3. 3

Panting, Javert woke once more. Dawn was tinting the dark sky above the city. The inspector got out of bed once more, making it this time. There would be no more sleep for him tonight; the memories were two painful. He walked over to the wash basin and let the cool water wake and calm him as he splashed on his face. He dressed and walked outside. The crisp morning air hit him as he headed down the streets of Paris. He soon arrived at the Commisionary of Police on the Rue de Pontoise. Walking inside, he was greeted by a messenger.  
  
"Monsieur, the prefect has said to tell you that a prisoner has been moved."  
  
"From?" Javert asked, irritably.  
  
"From Toulon, Monsieur. He was causing more trouble than they could handle. The prefect told the adjucent to send the man here, to Paris."  
  
"And why is this?"  
  
"Because of you. It is known that you not only served as adjucent for the galley guard at Toulon, but that you were the best at keeping order there. When you left, the control there weakened."  
  
"Yes, right. Thank you."  
  
The boy gave a quick nod and headed out the door. Javert turned as well, eager to see who caused enough trouble to be sent to Paris for it.  
  
Once at the prison, he was greeted and led to the cell. There he was left alone. "Did you enjoy your trip?" the inspector asked with mock concern.  
  
The thin man in the corner turned, shocked at the sound of Javert's voice.  
  
"Yes, Monsieur Inspector"  
  
Both were in shadow, so their faces could not be made out. However, Javert asked for the name of the convict. The convict answered.  
  
"Honoré" 


End file.
